Lassie Don't Fetch
by DinerGuy
Summary: Lassie is lonely. See Lassie find a puppy. Lassie doesn't want the puppy. See Lassie grumble. Grumble Lassie, grumble.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a fun fic from a plot bunny birthed on The Name Game thread over on the Psychfic forums. Lost_In_Translation created the title and Kirei the description. The bunny insisted on morphing slightly (as all my bunnies are so fond of doing), but it's still the same basic storyline. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Psych and its characters and original plotlines do not belong to me. Not even the title or basic plotline here belong to me … Wow. This is sad. Even so, I'm making no money on this nor do I mean any copyright infringement._

_And thanks to Kkarrie for reading this over and assuring me Lassiter was Lassiter enough._

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Another clap of thunder shook the house. Lassiter shook his head as he finished tying off his garbage bag. He'd better take it out before the sky opened; according to the forecasters, tonight would have quite the downpour. At least he didn't have anywhere to go and could stay inside. He strode to his front door, swung it open, then stopped in his tracks at the sight of the small animal on his doorstep.

The puppy looked up with large dark eyes, letting out a pitiful whimper as it watched him. It was wet and muddy, and shivers wracked its small body every few seconds. He couldn't tell what color it was through the mud on its coat, and he was no expert on dogs, but he could tell it was a larger breed, probably a retriever or a lab. It appeared to have been on its own for a while. There was a ragged look to the creature, and its skin hung loosely; a sure sign it hadn't had a good meal in quite a while.

Lassiter shook his head; some careless owner had probably abandoned it on the side of the road. He stepped past it to throw his garbage in the trash can at the side of his house, and when he turned around to go back to the house, he nearly stepped on the puppy.

With a scowl, he again stepped over it, quickening his step when the first drops of rain landed on his head. Looking behind him, he was only slightly surprised to see the puppy on his heels. Once they reached the house, the puppy scampered up the few steps to the porch and sat on his mat again, watching him in expectation.

"I don't need a pet," Lassiter snapped at it.

The puppy simply blinked at him, tilting its head to the side as if to ask why he wouldn't just open the door and let it inside.

Lassiter sighed. A dog was the last thing he needed or wanted, but he couldn't just leave it out all night. The responsible thing to do would be to take it to an animal shelter, but it was late and the rain was already starting to pour down. Giving the animal one more thoughtful look, he sighed again in resignation. "Fine, you can come in for the night, but I'm taking you to the shelter first thing in the morning."

As if it had understood him, the puppy let out a shrill bark. Lassiter reached down and picked it up; he wasn't going to let it walk around on his carpet with all that mud on its paws. It was lighter than he had expected, although he still had to use both hands to carry the weight.

Fishing an old towel out of his storage closet, Lassiter cleaned the puppy the best he could. He didn't own any dog shampoo, but a bath of warm water seemed to do a pretty good job of cleaning off the mud that was caked onto the puppy's coat. Once he had toweled off the animal's brown fur, he headed for the kitchen.

The puppy scampered along behind him, ears flopping as it kept up with his pace. Lassiter deposited the soiled towel near his washer then headed towards his refrigerator. He had no dog chow in his house, of course, and there was no way he was going out in that weather, but he had some meat that would work well enough for that night and the next morning.

He found a few old bowls in the back of his cabinet, one of which he filled with water, and set them on the ground for the puppy. With a yap of thanks, it pounced on the food, scarfing the entire bowlful down in a matter of minutes. Lassiter cleared his throat; he must be slightly allergic to the dog.

While the animal was eating, Lassiter headed towards the bathroom. He had some old towels around the house somewhere, and the puppy was going to have to sleep somewhere. A few minutes later, he returned with a handful of slightly worn bath towels. He wasn't even sure why he had kept them after all that time, but now he was glad he had.

When he stepped back into the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks. The puppy was no longer at the bowls beside the table. In fact, the floppy-eared creature was nowhere to be found at all. Lassiter let out a grunt of annoyance.

He whistled for the puppy as he strode into the living room. It wasn't in sight, and he continued towards his bedroom. "Come here, boy," he called, flicking on the light.

Lassiter's eyes narrowed. A strange sound was coming from under his bed; it was a wet chewing sound that didn't make him comfortable at all. He bent down to look underneath the bed and growled in annoyance.

The puppy met his stare with unblinking, innocent eyes. One of Lassiter's suede bucks was hanging from its mouth, and its left paw rested on the other, which was already mutilated.

"No!" Lassiter exclaimed, grabbing his footwear from the dog. "Bad dog!" He grimaced at the slimy feel of the shoes in his hands. They were ruined beyond repair, and he sighed in frustration.

The dog scampered from under the bed and out the door into the hallway. After mourning his shoes for a moment, Lassiter followed it. He would be able to find another pair easily enough, although they would never be quite the same as the pair he had already comfortably broken in. For now, he needed to keep an eye on the mischievous animal and hopefully keep it out of any further trouble or destruction of his house.

Lassiter whistled. "Boy? Here, boy … Come here, dog."

There was an answering whimper from his living room. Lassiter strode into the room but stopped in his tracks. The puppy was sitting in the corner of the room, shivering, its tail thumping weakly against the carpet. A small brown pile occupied the floor beside the animal.

"Oh no … You did not." Lassiter groaned. There were hundreds of better ways he could think of to spend his evening, and cleaning up small animals' toilet issues was not one of them.

The puppy blinked back at him, seeming to catch the tall human's displeased mood. It lowered its head and put its ears back, watching Lassiter as he glared at it. Finally, he shook his head and picked up the puppy and took it to the back door, setting it on the porch before stalking back to clean up the mess. Once he was finished, he let the puppy back inside.

He had to keep it in sight from now on, he decided, if he was going to avoid any further messes. That or put it where the mess would be much easier to clean up. And the dog needed a place to sleep, anyway; the bathroom was as good a place as any.

It was nearly time for him to head off to bed himself, so Lassiter put down the towels in his bathroom and set the puppy inside. Closing the door to keep it in, he donned his pajamas then squeezed back through the bathroom door. The puppy watched him curiously as he brushed his teeth and went about his nightly routine.

Finally he turned out the lights and climbed into bed, checking that his alarm was set and the gun in his nightstand drawer was loaded. Just as he started to drift off to sleep, a shrill whine broke the still night.

Lassiter groaned, rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head. The whining continued however, and he finally stood and stalked across the room. He yanked open the door and crossed his arms, glaring down at the puppy that had jumped up excitedly at the appearance of its new human.

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

The puppy whimpered, blinking up at him, wagging its tail in expectation.

"Dog, you are beginning to get on my nerves," Lassiter growled. He was half asleep and wanted to get back to his bed as soon as possible. "Lie down." He pointed a finger at the towels in the corner.

The puppy watched him for a moment longer before putting its ears back, tucking its tail between its legs, and slinking over to its bed. Once it had curled up on the towels, Lassiter turned back to his room, shut the bathroom door, and crawled between the covers again.

Less than a minute later, the puppy began crying again. This time, the whining was accompanied by scratching on the door. Lassiter reached to the side and grabbed an extra pillow, throwing it across the room at the door.

The puppy hushed for a moment, just long enough for Lassiter to drift back towards sleep, then the whining began again. Lassiter sighed heavily, trudging back to the door. The puppy was backed up a few steps when he opened the door, barking happily.

Yawning, Lassiter gave the dog his best glare. "You really need to let others sleep. I can put you back out in the rain you know."

The only response he received was a shrill yap. He picked up the animal and set it on the towels, pushing its back gently to make it lie down. "Now stay there." He shut the door once more, settling into his bed and pulling his pillow over his head. If he was lucky, he'd fall asleep in the next few minutes and manage a reasonable amount of sleep before he had to get up to work.

Not a chance. Within minutes, the dog's whine came through the bathroom door. If he ignored it, maybe it would finally get the hint and quiet down … But after five minutes of attempting to sleep in spite of the puppy noises, he gave up. He had read somewhere that a ticking clock worked to calm a puppy down at night, but he only had digital clocks in the house.

At this point, Lassiter was ready to try just about anything. He slowly made his way to the bathroom for what felt like the hundredth time that night, but instead of fussing the animal, he sat on the floor next to the towels, leaning back against the wall. The puppy scampered over to him and crawled into his lap. One ear flopped across its muzzle as it watched his face, reaching up with a pink tongue to greet him.

"You need to go to sleep," he told it groggily.

The puppy just turned in a circle, pawing at his legs before flopping down with its chin resting on his leg. Lassiter patted it on the head, stifling another yawn. He probably should get back into his own bed, but he might as well stay where he was for another few minutes. If he could get the puppy calmed down enough, it would probably sleep through the night. He yawned again, letting his eyes slip closed this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Lassiter was awoken the next morning by the feeling of something cold and wet in his ear. He quickly sat up, glancing around; it took him a moment to remember why he was on the floor of his bathroom.

The puppy was sitting next to him, watching his face, and its tail began to wag furiously when he met its gaze. It barked and scampered to the door, looking back at him in expectation.

Lassiter got to his feet slowly, his muscles protesting having spent the night on the hard tile of the bathroom floor. He could hear his alarm going off in the bedroom as he pushed the door open; he had set it earlier than normal in order to give himself time to stop by the animal shelter before work.

When he caught sight of the clock, his scowl deepened. The alarm had apparently been going off for a while; it was already past 6:30. So much for his plan to take the dog in. He'd be lucky to get into work close to his normal time.

He let the dog outside to do its business then locked it in the half bath while he headed to his own room to take a quick shower and get dressed. He left a bowl of food and water with the animal before hurrying out to his car. There wasn't much in the bathroom the puppy could destroy while he was gone; he'd have to figure out what to do with it later.

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"Dude, what is up with Lassie?"

Gus shifted the bag of styrofoam containers to his left hand, looking over his shoulder towards the police station door. "He's leaving for lunch, Shawn. What's so strange about that?"

"Well, Jules asked us to bring her some takeout because of her big caseload. Even on slow days, Lassieface hardly leaves his desk, especially for something as trivial as lunch." He raised an eyebrow in response to the look Gus gave him. "Not to me, obviously. Gus, I'm hurt you would even think that. Lunch is never trivial in my book. I'm just saying, Lassie never takes a lunch break this early and never when there is so much crime afoot in the good city of Santa Barbara. Here you are, Jules!"

She flashed them a thankful smile as Gus handed over her lunch. "Thanks, guys."

"So, uh, do you know why Lassie headed out in such a rush?" Shawn inquired, putting on as innocent of a look as he could muster.

"No," Juliet shook her head. "He seemed a little distracted all morning actually."

"Huh." Shawn was clearly distracted.

Gus looked up from the seat he had pulled up next to Juliet's desk, where he had just opened the lid of his container. He had one of the looks that Shawn was used to seeing by now, the one that said Shawn needed to drop a subject.

"You know ..." Shawn shot Juliet a look.

Gus shook his head. "Shawn, sit down and eat your lunch."

"Jules, is Lassie dating again?"

Gus snorted.

"Uh ... not that I'm aware." Juliet shot him a confused look as she stuck a fork into her rice. "Why?"

"Well, I'm getting the signal that something - or someone - new has entered Lassie's life recently." Shawn shrugged. "Gus, don't eat my ragout. I'll be back."

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Shawn pulled his motorcycle to a stop outside of Lassiter's house. He wasn't sure at first if the head detective would even be home, but he had planned to do some digging if not. However, the man's car was parked at the house, so Shawn strode up to knock on the front door.

From inside the house, Shawn could hear a skittering, as if a small animal were running on the floor. A shrill barking confirmed his suspicions, and by the time Lassiter opened the door, Shawn was grinning from ear to ear.

"Spencer, what on earth are you doing here?" Lassiter demanded. He had to tighten his grip on the squirming puppy in his arms; the dog was barking in excitement, wriggling to get closer to the new arrival.

"The spirits told me your house had a new occupant, and I wanted to be the first to welcome it," Shawn explained. "Can I come in?"

Lassiter sighed. "Fine. But only because I don't feel like standing here fighting with this animal for much longer."

After Shawn had closed the door behind himself, Lassiter put the puppy down. The dog immediately started jumping up at Shawn's legs, begging for attention.

Reaching out a hand to scratch behind its ears, Shawn shot a mischievous grin at the head detective. "What's his name?"

"He doesn't have a name," Lassiter answered, "because he's not staying."

Shawn clapped his hands over the dog's ears. "Lassie, be nice. You're going to hurt his feelings."

"I couldn't care less." Lassiter checked his watch. "I need to get going; I have to drop this animal by the shelter before heading back to work."

"You're going to just throw him back to the cold hard world?" Shawn stuck out his lower lip in a pout. "Come on, Lassie. Where's your heart?"

"Long gone, like the pair of suede bucks he ruined. Now if you'll excuse me." He reached for the dog.

"Hey, Lassie, why don't you let me take the dog for you? That way you can get back to work sooner," Shawn suggested.

Lassiter paused, regarding Shawn with a raised eyebrow expression. "You sure, Spencer?"

"Well, yeah." Shawn shrugged. "You're obviously missing being at the office; it's the friendly thing to do."

"Huh," Lassiter snorted. "Fine. But lock the door when you go. You know where the shelter is?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Get back to the crime-fighting and leave the doggy business to me." Shawn waved him off.

As soon as the other man had pulled out of the driveway, Shawn turned to the puppy, who was watching him intently. "So, are you ready to go?"

The dog barked happily, turning in circles by the door.

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The day finally came to a close, and Lassiter was able to head home. He was looking forward to an evening by himself before what would surely be another busy day in the morning.

He unlocked the door, pocketing his keys, then paused in midstep when the now-familiar skittering of puppy claws on his floor reached his ears. There was a jingling sound as well now, and Lassiter scowled.

"Spencer!"

"Hey, Lassieface!" Shawn appeared in the kitchen doorway. "You hungry? I grabbed some Chinese while I was out since Gus ate my lunch from earlier."

"Spencer, what happened?" Lassiter demanded. "I thought you were going to drop the dog off at the shelter this afternoon." He crossed his arms and glared at the other man.

"You did. But Timmy said he wanted to stay. If I were him, I wouldn't want to go to a shelter either."

"Timmy?"

Shawn grinned. "I thought it fit." He turned and hurried to the kitchen excitedly, giving Lassiter no chance to respond.

The head detective followed him with a less enthusiastic look on his face. "Spencer, the next words out of your mouth better be that you are taking that dog home with you when you walk out my front door in two seconds."

"Aw, no, Lassie, I couldn't take your best friend away from you," Shawn called over his shoulder. "Now come see what Timmy and I bought this afternoon!"


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm not even going to pretend this isn't way late. Enjoy anyway! Sorry to keep you guys waiting. ;) _

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"You don't look so good this morning, Lassieface," Shawn observed, striding up to the head detective's desk. He was carrying a box of donuts in one hand and a dog bone in the other. Several officers had given him slightly confused looks, but most had learned by now that it was better not to ask what the psychic was up to most of the time.

Lassiter just grunted in response, keeping his gaze on his paperwork.

"Did Timmy help himself to more of your shoes? I told him to be good." Shawn shook his head in mock disappointment.

"No, but my electricity went off sometime during the night, so I was late getting up again and couldn't take that mutt to the shelter this morning," Lassiter snapped.

Shawn blinked innocently. "I'm sorry to hear that, Lassie. Wiring can be very unpredictable sometimes."

Lassiter looked up, frowning at the tone in the other man's voice. Before he could say anything, his partner, Junior Detective Juliet O'Hara joined them.

"Hi, Shawn," she greeted. Noticing the bone in his hands, she paused and shot him a quizzical look.

"No, Jules, this isn't for Lassie, though he has been a good boy lately. It's for Timmy." Shawn grinned when the crease in Juliet's forehead deepened. "Lassie has a new housemate."

"Lassiter has a what?" Gus asked in confusion, having arrived to catch the tail end of the discussion.

Lassiter smacked a hand down on the desktop. "I don't have a new housemate."

"Then what do you call Timmy?" Shawn sounded both hurt and slightly amused.

"Timmy?" Gus raised an eyebrow at Juliet, who shrugged, sharing his confused expression.

Rolling his eyes, Lassiter sighed and temporarily gave up on his paperwork. "I found a stray dog the other day and haven't had time to take it to the shelter yet. Spencer here seems to have decided I should keep it."

Shawn nodded excitedly, appearing quite pleased with himself.

"But I'm not," Lassiter snapped. "Either you find a home for it, or I take it to the shelter at lunch.

Shawn turned to his friend, eyes lighting up. "Gus! I have an idea."

"No, Shawn."

"But you haven't even heard it yet!" Shawn pouted.

"No. I know what you're going to say, and no, I do not want nor do I need a dog right now."

Shawn turned pleading eyes on Juliet, who shook her head. "Sorry, Shawn. I have cats."

"Hmph." Shawn crossed his arms and scowled. "Nice to see how much you guys care about a poor little defenseless puppy, all alone in the world."

"What about you?" Gus asked.

"Can't; pets aren't allowed in my lease," Shawn replied matter-of-factly, as if the others were already supposed to know about his lease agreement.

Lassiter shrugged and turned his attention back to his work. "Well either you find a place for it, or I head home at lunch and it goes to the shelter."

"Fine," Shawn pouted.

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Lassiter arrived home at lunch, fully expecting to be greeted by an overly-enthusiastic psychic with a host of reasons why the puppy should stay where it was. However, Shawn did not come bounding out of his house to greet him, nor was the other man seated on the front step awaiting his arrival. Lassiter checked behind the bushes as he headed for the door, just in case Shawn had any thoughts of pranks in mind.

When Shawn failed to appear, Lassiter breathed a small sigh of relief. He would be able to get things taken care of and get back to the station in no time at all.

Just as he was unlocking the door, a call from the street stopped him in his tracks.

"Lassieface!"

Lassiter groaned. Of course, he should have known that Shawn wouldn't let him get through this peacefully. Shawn was determined that the puppy would find a new home with the detective. He sighed and turned to let Shawn know what he thought, but paused at the sight of the woman accompanying Shawn up the driveway.

They didn't look familiar to Lassiter, and he was almost afraid to find out what Shawn had come up with now. "Spencer, what are you doing?"

"Now, Lassie, be nice. You haven't even been introduced," Shawn chided. "This is Sheila Morrison."

"Hi." Lassiter nodded uncertainly in greeting before turning back to Shawn. "Spencer, do you mind telling me what is going on here?"

"Well, you told me I had to find a home for Timmy, so I found his home." Shawn had a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Detective Lassiter," Sheila spoke up in a hopeful voice, "my family had recently bought a new dog, but it slipped out of its collar and got away when we took it to the vet's office. We haven't been able to find it anywhere, but Mr. Spencer called this morning and said it may have turned up here."

"This morning … Well then." Lassiter glanced at Shawn again to see if the psychic was playing any sort of trick on him. "He's right inside. What kind of dog did you have?" he asked as he unlocked the door.

"A chocolate lab," Sheila replied, biting her lip.

Shawn nodded in agreement, the grin still on his face.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and stepped into the house. "Come in. I put the dog in the bathroom when I left this morning."

In a moment, he had opened the door to the bathroom. It trotted out of the small room, excited to be let out. Catching sight of the woman standing near the front door, its tail suddenly started wagging a mile a minute.

"Duke!" Sheila exclaimed happily.

With a yip of happiness, the puppy scampered over to Sheila. Its ears were pulled back and it could hardly contain itself. The pink tongue darted in and out as it leaped and wriggled in delight.

Shawn watched the scene with that same smile on his face. Catching himself, Lassiter cleared his throat. "Well, he's obviously yours. I'm glad everything worked out."

"Thank you so much." Sheila stood with Duke in her arms, smiling happily. "I can't tell you how much this means; my kids will be overjoyed."

"Of course," Lassiter nodded gruffly.

"We're just sorry we didn't check for posters or lost ads sooner," Shawn told her.

"Well, it all worked out, so no hard feelings. Thank you again," Sheila said, turning to leave.

Once she had gone, Shawn turned to Lassiter. "See, everything worked out. You should have checked for lost dog reports when you first found it, and you wouldn't have had to worry so much. Now, what are you going to do with all that dog stuff you have?"

"You bought it," Lassiter shrugged. "I have to get back to work."

"Your house is going to be awfully lonely now that Timmy's gone. Why don't you put it all to good use and –"

"Spencer!"

"Or I could just return it," Shawn finished, putting his hands out to the sides. "Or …" His eyes lit up. "I wonder what Gus would think about a Psych mascot!"

Lassiter just rolled his eyes and headed for the door.


End file.
